


Welcome home, Theseus

by A_Pinch_Of_Sage



Category: Dream SMP - Fandom
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Found family trope or die by my hand, Gen, If Techno not older brother why comfort Tommy ????, It was pogchamp, Others are only mentioned, Psychological Trauma, Techno doesn’t get paid enough for this, he has a breakdown
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-05
Updated: 2021-01-05
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:48:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28419390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_Pinch_Of_Sage/pseuds/A_Pinch_Of_Sage
Summary: Straightening his spine, Techno cleared his throat and lifted his arm, pointing the sword to the intruder’s back.“What do you think you’re doing?”“Ah!”In the most ungraceful way possible, the intruder lifted their head up and hit the top of the chest.“Oh, son of a bitch!” They yelled, falling to their knees and clutching the back of their head.Techno felt a tiny ounce of pity, which quickly turned into surprise then anger when the intruder turned around.“...Tommy?” He asked, confusion evident in his voice. The grip of his sword loosening slightly.
Relationships: No Romantic Relationship(s), Technoblade & Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), TommyInnit & Technoblade
Comments: 3
Kudos: 91





	Welcome home, Theseus

**Author's Note:**

> Been a couple days but surprise surprise, here’s ANOTHER Tommy angst fic (with some comfort this time!)

Aging wood creaked beneath heavy boots when Techno pushed open the door to his winter cabin, exhausted after wandering around the forest all day. The door gently closed behind him, shutting out the biting cold that flushed his skin pink. Thankfully, the winter storm already came and went overnight, so he didn’t have to worry about getting swept up in a blizzard. The last thing he needed was a fresh case of hypothermia. 

Techno shed his coat and neatly hung it on a nearby coat rack, moving to take off his boots. Unfortunately, his socks were soaked from stepping into a particularly deep pile of snow while navigating his way up a mountain. It caught him off guard, he was too busy chasing down a wild cow to notice, and if he wasn’t paying attention, he would’ve face planted into the snow. He made it out fine, but his shoes did not. They’re his favorite pair—lace up boots, tobacco brown leather that was stained on the toes but not ruined completely. He could always polish and shine them later. 

Moving to place his shoes in the corner, Techno raised a hand to stifle his yawn. All he could think about was sinking into a warm bath and relishing in the steam and woodsy aroma from his homemade candles. Maybe he could cook steak and steamed vegetables for dinner. He did have a lot leftover from yesterday’s hunt. 

His thought process got cut short, his eyes fixated on the other pair of boots that were haphazardly placed in the corner. One boot was knocked over with the laces pooling on the hardwood floor. 

Instinctively, he drew his sword. 

Now was about the time any normal person would call Techno crazy or paranoid for pulling out a sword because his shoes weren’t upright. It wasn’t a normal thing, they were right. That’s the thing though, he was paranoid—he always was. He was an outlawed criminal on the run, being paranoid was part of the job description. 

Before he left, he made sure that his shoes were upright and even tucked in to prevent them from getting tangled. It was a pain in the ass to untangle them and it made everything look nicer. That’s how he left them. Now, his boots were sloppily placed, like someone tripped over them when they came in. Normally, that wouldn’t have been a problem if Techno didn’t live alone, in the middle of nowhere. He didn’t have any neighbors, he was surrounded by towering spruce trees and wild foxes. 

The only person who knew of his whereabouts was Phil, but he always, always sent a letter in advance. He practically raised him, so he knew how on edge Techno was twenty-four seven. Besides him, no one else knew where his exact coordinates were. 

Using common sense, any person would be able to tell that someone was in his house, hence the diamond sword in his hand. It was a safety precaution.

Techno stealthily crept through the room, silent as a mouse, and stood near the door to prevent the person from escaping. His sock-covered feet moved across the floor smoothly. He was careful enough to not put all his weight down. The more he looked around, the more his anxiety built, making his heart race. 

There were clumps of mud and snow around the base of the ladder, caking in-between the cracks of the floor. His stack of books on his table were knocked over, chest lids open but not locked, and even his brewing stand was moved. God damn it. 

Ignoring the mess, Techno followed the trail of muddy snow toward the ladder. He kept a tencious grip on his sword in case anyone tried to get a jump on him. If he listened hard enough, he could hear a faint rustling in the attic. 

Whoever decided to break into his house just made the biggest mistake of their life, and Techno will make sure they were aware of it and will pay the price. 

The ladder creaked under his weight, and Techno cursed softly. He knew he should’ve built a staircase instead of a ladder, but it was a waste of resources and time. Thankfully, the intruder didn’t notice and kept rummaging around like they owned the place. 

It made Techno’s blood boil and his teeth clench.

Who could have the balls to break into his house so carelessly? A known anarchist with a bloodlust that could not be satisfied. How stupid did they have to be to risk such a thing? Well, he was about to figure out in a second anyway. 

Once he reached the top of the ladder, Techno paused. 

It was true that he had the upper hand in this scenario, but the intruder had the high ground. They could easily knock him off the ladder and steal his sword if they were skilled enough. But considering how they broke into his house, Techno wasn’t too worried about that. Better safe than sorry. He didn’t make it this far by being careless and arrogant. 

Slowly, he raised his head enough to peek over the edge and get a good look at the intruder. Hopefully, they would have their back turned so he could strike. 

As expected, the intruder was rummaging through a chest by his bookshelves, too busy looking through his stuff to potentially steal and sell to the first buyer they see. Techno couldn’t see their face since it was buried in the chest, but he could see the awful state of their clothes. Whoever they were, they were far from wealthy. Their white shirt had holes and dirt smudges on it, along with a few scratches and burn marks. When was the last time they had a shower? He could smell them from here. Something about them seemed familiar, but Techno couldn’t quite place his finger on it.

He was getting distracted, he needed to focus. That got him moving. With the skill of a trained hunter, he quickly climbed up the last step and pulled himself up without making a sound. The stranger, still unaware of his presence, leaned down further to reach the items at the bottom of the chest, their back completely exposed. Now was the time to strike. 

Straightening his spine, Techno cleared his throat and lifted his arm, pointing the sword to the intruder’s back.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

“Ah!” 

The intruder shrieked and dropped whatever they were holding in their hand. Damn it, nothing better be broken. In the most ungraceful way possible, the intruder lifted their head up and hit the top of the chest.

“Oh, son of a bitch!” They yelled, falling to their knees and clutching the back of their head. 

Okay, now they were overselling it. That did not look like it hurt too bad. However, Techno felt a tiny ounce of pity, which quickly turned into surprise then anger when the intruder turned around. He stared into familiar blue eyes that were scrunched up in pain, the rest of his face covered in scratches and dirt.

“...Tommy?” He asked, confusion evident in his voice. The grip of his sword loosening slightly. He didn’t want to give up his guard just yet. 

“T-Techno!” Tommy said and jumped up, wincing at the quick action. He kept a firm, bandaged hand on the back of his head, protectively shielding it. “What are—what are you doing home so early?” 

Techno spared a glance out the window where the sun was slowly setting on the horizon. An endless stretch of pink and orange morphing into dark blue and purple, marking the end of another day and the start of an interesting night. Huh, the Brit must have arrived shortly before Techno did, and by the state of his clothes, he must’ve been walking all day. 

“What are you doing here, Tommy?” He asked instead of answering the younger’s question. Not like he needed to know any of his business. Techno preferred to be alone, this was the opposite of alone. 

Tommy forced a laugh, his voice cracking. “I’m not fucking doing anything, dickhead! Nothing...at all,” he said, still standing in front of the chest to block it from Techno’s view. He not-so-subtly reached behind him to close it. 

Techno raised a brow, noticing the weird behavior right off the bat. Then again, Tommy was always weird so maybe he was overthinking this entire thing. To be fair, he did mentally prepare himself to fight a random thief trying to earn a quick buck, but it was just Tommy. 

“Uh-huh, that’s interesting,” Techno began, not believing him whatsoever, and slid his sword back into its holder. It’s not like he would need it anytime soon. “But why don’t you tell me why you’re really here, Tommy.” 

The blond sighed. All at once, the tension left his body and his shoulders slumped. Unable to hold the intense eye contact, Tommy looked away, finding the bookshelves next to him particularly interesting. 

“...Take a guess,” he mumbled and reached out to brush the spine of one of the enchantment books. 

Techno pursed his lips as he contemplated the comment and took in Tommy’s appearance, posture, and tone. He was worse for wear with tattered clothes and messy, outgrown hair. His eyes were less vibrant and blue. More grey. He seemed…hopeless. Tired, more tired than usual. Defeated. He could barely stand up straight. It’s like his body didn’t have the energy to keep going anymore, to keep moving. There’s only one person who was capable of destroying a person’s confidence that badly, building it up and breaking it back down—

“Dream,” Techno finished. 

Tommy flinched at the name, his hands subconsciously curling into fists. He took a tiny step back and glanced around the room. The name was a trigger for him now, a constant reminder of all the emotional pain and trauma he went through. Techno made a mental note to be more gentle when discussing the masked man. 

The man was a reminder of all the bad things in Tommy’s life—losing his friends, getting exiled, and watching Logsted get blown to smithereens. He exhaled shakily, trying to calm the panic that was bubbling in his chest. Dream was not here, he was safe. For now.

Bowing his head, Tommy nodded quickly. A quiet sniffle escaped but he kept his head down. He didn’t want to be vulnerable in front of another person, he...he couldn’t. 

“Tell me what happened,” Techno encouraged. He leaned his shoulder against the wall and crossed his arms, deciding to get comfy. Maybe his bath would have to wait. Tommy obviously needed him right now, and he had no where else to go. “What did he do, Tommy.”

Tommy licked his lips. “He...He destroyed it, Techno. Didn’t give me a chance to explain,” he stumbled over his words, and his voice cracked. He could feel his throat closing up, like an invisible hand was choking him, cutting off his circulation. His hands shook violently at his sides and tears welled up in his eyes. “Just destroyed my home. Everything. He destroyed fucking everything. He found my room, my hidden room, and he burnt it to the ground. Grabbed some fucking TNT and blew it all up. Poof! All gone now, Techno.” He laughed maniacally and threw his hands in the air, as if to mimic the explosion.

“I could only manage to save what I have on me. That green bastard blew everything else up. I fucking—I grabbed as much as I could from one of the chests, but…but I watched as he destroyed it all, Techno. He…He said I needed to be taught a lesson,” he said quietly, squeezing his eyes shut. He bowed his head, tilting away, too ashamed to look the other in the eye. He felt so small and helpless, so devastated and miserable. Poor, Tommy Innit.

Techno hummed, and when the other looked up, he gestured with his hand to show that he was still listening. He would never degrade Tommy for any of this. While he may look uninterested, Techno was secretly analyzing every word that came out of Tommy’s mouth. It was a miracle that the boy was still standing in front of him, the Brit said that much himself.

A small whimper escaped Tommy’s throat. As soon as the first sound escaped, that tiny, helpless wail, his body shook uncontrollably. Broken sobs and gasps filled the void of the quiet room as he broke down, hot tears pooling down his cheeks. Tommy raised his hands to his mouth to muffle his cries, squeezing his eyes shut, so painfully tight that he saw stars behind his eyelids.

Now, look. 

Techno was not the best person to be comforted by. In fact, he was probably one of the worst people to go to because of how emotionless and brutally honest he could be. Along with that, he wasn’t very affectionate or touchy either, definitely didn’t give comforting hugs, but what else was he supposed to do? Just let him cry until he passed out? 

Well, that was better than leaving him out in the cold to die, but Phil would kill him if he did that, so he needed a better alternative.

Deciding on an appropriate response, Techno made his move. Calm and collected, Techno slowly walked up to Tommy, who was still shaking and crying and oh god is he wiping his snotty nose on his arm? Gross. 

Another broken cry encouraged Techno to reach out, offering his hand to the other. Then he placed a gentle but stable hand on Tommy’s shoulder. Not too strong of a grip so Tommy could back out if he felt uncomfortable, but enough for him to notice it. 

“It’s gonna be okay, Tommy,” he reassured. Techno was a words kinda guy, not actions when it came to these kinda things, which was ironic considering that he was a violent anarchist. He gave a gentle squeeze to Tommy’s shoulder and threw him a hopefully comforting smile. 

“He’s not here, okay?” Techno began, trying his best to calm the other down. “Dream can’t hurt you, not when you’re with me. I won’t let him. As long as you stick with me, you’re safe.” 

Tommy flinched at the contact but quickly relaxed under the pressure. He moved to wipe the tears from his eyes, rubbing the skin under his eyes until they were raw and smooth. The painful sobs and cries slowly turned into small hiccups and sniffles. That was good, right? He’s not crying anymore. It’s like taking care of a baby. Techno was good at this comforting thing. 

After another couple of minutes had passed, Techno dropped his hand and took a step back to give the boy some space. 

“Are you alright now?”

Tommy rolled his eyes, a watery smile making its way on his lips. “I'm not a puss, Big T. I’m better than ever.” Techno gave him a look, and Tommy mumbled out a thank you. 

“Mhm. Anything to get you to stop crying, it’s too much of an inconvenience,” Techno said. He jokingly sniffed the air, and his eyes widened. For comedic effect, he even pinched his nose shut. “You need to take a shower.”

Tommy gasped. “What the fuck! You know, you can just say I smell like shit.” 

“Alright,” Techno thought for a moment then agreed. “You smell like shit. Now go take a shower before I kick you out of my house.”

“Fuck off, you dickhead! You’re literally a pig, you look like shit,” Tommy yelled and lightly shoved him when he passed. Techno let it slide, just this once. And maybe a few more times in the future. “I’m gonna use all your shampoo.” 

Techno’s grin fell. 

“You better not. It took me two and a half days to make it!” He yelled, and Tommy cackled as he made his way down the ladder. 

“Bullshit. There’s no way you made that shit yourself.” 

“I did!”

“Whatever, you liar. I’m still gonna use it all.” 

And just like that, Tommy climbed down the ladder and explored the tiny house to find a bathroom. 

Techno shook his head and pushed himself off the wall to start cleaning up the mess that Tommy made. At least he didn’t sleep in his bed or anything. He just cleaned his sheets the other day, so that would’ve been a pain in the ass to re-wash and re-iron.

As he started organizing the bookshelves and considering the extent of his empathy, Tommy’s voice echoed behind him.

“Hey, Techno?” The serious tone made Techno stop what he was doing. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw Tommy on the ladder, resting his crossed arms on the step—when the hell did he get there? Techno didn’t even hear him climb back up. Sneaky raccoon. 

“Yes, Tommy?”

Tommy opened and closed his mouth, trying to figure out how to phrase the words in his head. “Thank you—and I mean it for...You know, all this,” he said and gestured around them. “Thank you so much. I don’t know how I’ll ever be able to repay you.”

“You can repay me by taking a shower, I can smell you all the way from here,” Techno responded, his tone lighthearted, and turned back around to hide the small smile on his face. He wasn’t smiling, it was just the lighting in the room. 

Tommy groaned and got back on the ladder, starting to climb down. “Fucking fine. I’m going now, happy?” 

“Very much so.” 

“Fuck off, but seriously,” The blond said again in that tone of voice. Techno could feel his eyes burning holes into the back of his head, “Thank you, Techno.”

“Anytime, kiddo.”

**Author's Note:**

> At least, it ended on a happy note :)


End file.
